


flutterings

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Magic, Ritual Drugs, Ritual Sex, fertility magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Arthur sees white when he comes, and distantly, absently, he can feel Merlin tensing beneath him.Written forMerthur Daily's 1o Years.Day 5: Before & After/AU/Change. This is an AU-Change.... of a sort?





	flutterings

Arthur watches the candle. Just a quarter of a mark more and he can go to Merlin. He can imagine him, how he’s feeling. They’ll have stripped him of his body hair by now. Probably rubbed the euphoria into his gum and had him drink the heat. Arthur wonder’s if Merlin feels as flushed as he doesn't, if his skin is as sweaty and his groin as tight. 

Mostly he wants to know if Merlin is as itchy with want as he is. As he has been since the first whispers of morning. The floor creaks and Arthur shifts. The candle has burned low enough. It is time. 

He slips out of the room he’d been sequestered to, forced to hide in. It’s indecent, for a king such as he to be roaming the halls of his castle in nothing more than his nightshirt. But it is already too much cloth against his overheated skin. 

He makes it to his own chambers and hesitates at the door. Just beyond, Merlin will be bound to his bed. He’ll be well prepared and as anxious as Arthur. Perhaps even more so, given his state. If Arthur remembers right his dosages of euphoria and heat will have been much higher. His skin will have been painted with rebirth. A steady diet of cumin and blackberry leaves for the month, along with the leather strap from his father woven into his hair should be enough. 

If it isn’t, so be it, Arthur thinks. They’ve been preparing for this ritual since the year opened. Now at the close, Arthur doesn’t think he can do it again. Curse Merlin and his persistence, his absolute faith in this rite, and his conviction for following it to the letter.

Arthur pushes through the door and sucks in a needed breath. Merlin’s eyes are on him already, glossy and blown. They’ve oiled him, so that he gleams in the firelight, and bound him in red satin. His hips twitch in the air, but when he sees Arthur he signs. His smile is full of contentment and relief.

“So it’s time, yeah?” The words, though whispered, are far too loud in this room. 

Arthur doesn’t answer. He simply strides forward and takes his position behind Merlin. Normally he would savor this, would tease and touch and taste. But seeing Merlin like this, here and ready and  _ wanting _ is too much. He does take a moment though, to place his palm to Merlin’s smooth belly. He knows he is imagining the fluttering beneath his palm. 

Merlin whines at the contact, a long stretch of noise that has Arthur seeing spots. He stands behind Merlin and presses his palms to his nether cheeks. Merlin’s whole body twitches with anticipation. The skin is warm and smooth and it is only the throbbing in him that stops Arthur from exploring the strange hairlessness. 

Arthur enters him in a swift mood. He slips into the warmth easily, oil already thickly smeared. A small part of him is disappointed  _ he _ didn’t get to open Merlin up. Most of him doesn’t care in the face of the warm, wet, receptive heat. In the books, participants had all manner of fun during this moment. Arthur thinks that’s a load of hogwash, because he hasn’t even moved again, and already he feels close to the end.

Merlin grunts, shoves backwards, which makes Arthur thinks he feels the same. Still, he leans down and presses a kiss to the nob at the top of Merlin’s spine. Merlin sobs beneath him. 

“You must move, Arthur.” Merlin’s voice is wrecked and Arthur  _ hates _ this. Because  _ he  _ should be the cause of Merlin’s undoing. 

That spurs him into action. He sets a steady pace, quick thrust that force Merlin forward and jerk him back. Arthur kisses the skin on his shoulders, his neck. He twist his fingers in to dark, sweat damped hair, and scrapes his nails across a lean chest. He feels as though he is in Merlin, and he is Merlin, and he and Merlin have never been anything but one.

Merlin makes noises that cause Arthur to blush, hands scrabbling in his binds and against the sheet. It’s going to be over too soon, Arthur knows. Already he can feel the end. He can see the quivering in Merlin, can see the way his whole body is tensing and spasming. 

“If it doesn’t work-” Merlin begins, strained. 

Arthur bites his shoulder and slams his hips into him. 

“Arthur. If it doesn’t-” Merlin hisses.

Arthur cuts him off by reaching down and stroking Merlin’s prick. “It has.” 

Arthur sees white when he comes, and distantly, absently, he can feel Merlin tensing beneath him. 

When Arthur can catch his breath and his heart has slowed, He finds himself plastered to Merlin’s back. The red satin has disappeared, and they’re both surprisingly  _ not _ covered in sweat and release. The room is still stiflingly warm, and his skin still itches beneath the surface, but Arthur doesn’t mind. He curls himself around Merlin, trying to crawl into his skin, trying to make them forever one. 

“Stop thinking, Arthur. Just rest. We will know soon enough if we succeeded,” Merlin tells him sleepily. 

Arthur doesn’t answer. Instead he kisses Merlin right below his ear and presses a hand to his stomach. This time, Arthur  _ knows _ he can feel a fluttering beneath his palm.


End file.
